Left 4 Dead 2: Comaraderie
by Zivalene
Summary: After escaping from the military troops that brought them into custody from New Orleans, the survivors search for another way to save themselves from the infection. It isn't long until Ellis comes across an old friend and just maybe the salvation of love. Told from Ellis' and Nick's perspectives.
1. Chapter 1

Left 4 Dead 2: Camaraderie

Chapter 1

"Let me out of here, prick!" Nick banged his fists against the one-inch thick solid steel prison door. No reply came from the other side, as the man that had put him in there refused to let him know his taunts were falling on someone's ears. But Nick knew he was there, listening, making sure no escape plans were being formulated or the such. "Let me out so I can ram my foot up your ass!"

He thrust one of his black shoes at the door, immediately pulling it back in pain as his foot throbbed from the impact.

"Yellin' ain't gonna help, Nick," Ellis sighed, fumbling his thumbs over the brim of his cap that he had removed from his head and into his lap.

He sat on one of the two beds in the seven-by-eight cell, both topped with a thin mattress with a number of springs protruding from the sides. The walls of the cell were also steel, painted a putrid sea green color, constantly dimmed and brightened by the periodic flickering of the single neon post light above the opposite bed. The nauseating smell of urine and sewage lingered in the ice cold air from the single toilet in the rear left corner, neighbored by a small sink.

"Christ, Ellis," fumed Nick, "It's only a matter of time before they set us up as targets on the shooting range! We've gotta get out."

Ellis took his gaze off of his hat and glared at Nick. They man in the suit was taken aback by his eyes. He had never seen the younger man express anything other than a smile and the occasional protrusion of the lower lip when he himself would criticize his stereotypical hick mannerisms. However, Ellis never took these as offensive as Nick intended, and instead bounced back smiling and laughing, somehow respecting the older man more each day.

But ever since being air-lifted from the infected New Orleans and being thrown into prison cells escorted by soldiers with orders to shoot upon disturbance, Ellis' mood had become an empty husk devoid of the joy he once carried proudly on his shoulders.

"You were right, Nick." Ellis nodded, his voice floating around sarcasm. "you warned us this was gonna happen. But we didn't listen, we were jes' so happy we weren't gonna have to fight anymore zombies."

Try as he might, Nick couldn't help but shrink at Ellis' words. He couldn't decide whether he was pointing the finger at himself or the military, but he knew that the younger man had been torn. The aura of optimism that Nick one repeatedly tried to dim had finally faded.

When Nick first met Ellis, the threat of a zombie apocalypse was nothing more than a childish self-proclaimed dare. He had jumped into the fray declaring that he was "livin' in the best shooting range of all time". Nothing that he or their other companions said could bring him down. In fact, Ellis would, on occasion, mention absurd tales about his friend Keith getting into any sort of trouble imaginable. Nick would call this "idiot's bliss" because he believed that Ellis simply did not grasp the severity of their situation. However, when confronted by Coach one day while expressing his opinion, he stated in his big hearty voice that Ellis was "the bravest one out of all of them" because he was only trying to keep their spirits up and their minds off of the constant fight for survival.

In time, Ellis hardened and matured throughout their struggles, but managed to keep his "little brother" (as Rochelle had dubbed him) demeanor.

Nick now understood that, in the end , what really kept him going was the knowledge that New Orleans would be their savior. But instead they were held at gunpoint, told not to speak or resist, and thrown into disgusting cells with nothing to look forward to but the meals of gruel, a cup of water and the ever approaching day they would be executed for carrying the disease that started the infection that engulfed the United States.

"I know they're gonna fill us with holes, Nick. Might as well enjoy the time we have left an' not piss 'em off."

From that Nick thought,_ 'So this is how optimism dies...'_

It was like Ellis was a completely different person. And Nick knew that even though he had spent most of their journey picking on Ellis, it concerned him if not scared him, to see him anywhere within the confines of depression. In his mind, the way he saw it was that no one but himself could pick on Ellis.

He felt obligated to make whatever last days the twenty-three year old had left happy and not trodden on by the military. His first thought was the number of stories that he was unable to finish because it wasn't the proper time. Now seemed like the only time they had left.

Nick moved to the bed opposite Ellis' and sat on the side facing him. He rested his elbows on his knees and watched the flickering light along with the walls changed the sleeves of his suit from white to green then back again. He looked up in attempt to make eye contact with the younger man, however his normally shining blue eyes were hidden beneath the brim of his tow-truck cap.

Nick opened his mouth to speak, but found himself hesitating. Being considerate was something he only recently began practicing.

Finally, he found his voice. "Ellis, how about you tell me about that time Keith was attacked by a gator?" He gave no reply or sign of acknowledgment other than lifting his head no more than an inch. Nick could see his eyes now, still darkened by his hat. He tried again. "Or when he ran his car off the side of a cliff?"

For a moment, Ellis remained still. Then he gave a small laugh, the side of his mouth curled slightly out of amusement. Nick relaxed. Finally, a hint that the man in the yellow shirt wasn't completely lost.

"What's this for, Nick?" Ya never cared a lick 'bout my stories before."

There was that small pin-prick in his chest. He saw that coming.

He quickly retaliated, almost annoyed. "Because I want to hear what you have to say. Any minute now they could take us away and kill us. So whatever you didn't have a chance to say before, here it is-on a silver platter."

Ellis continued grinning. "That's almost kind of ya." He paused for a second to give another breathy laugh, shooting his eyes off towards the unsanitary sink, then back at Nick. "Sad thing is, I a'ready told ya everythin' I had to say 'bout Keith."

Nick frowned. He could swear his eye lid was starting to twitch, or maybe it was just because he had held a scrunched up face when he was shouting at the soldier. Ellis always had some tale to tell, whether it be about Keith or not. He didn't believe for a second that he didn't have one more left in him.

"Come on, Ellis. I'm trying to be nice here. How about something I can relate to. Like the first time you ran into a zombie."

Ellis' face was completely visible now, his eyes staring straight into Nick's, his hat parallel to the ceiling. He searched through Nick's jade eyes, as if looking for for one of his derogatory jokes that he managed to hide under his offer. He said "You really wanna know?" The other nodded. Ellis was convinced. "Alright. As long as you let me finish this one."

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First time I saw a zombie? Well, let's jus' say it ain't nothin' to shake a stick at.

My pa ran off when I was still just bite-sized, had another lady he liked more an' my ma. So it was always just me 'n her. She always tried to make life as good as it got for me. But she was always on her toes, stressed out. Any time I got sick, she'd take me straight to the doctor, runnin' in sayin "he's dyin'! He's dyin'!". But I guess that's how it was s'posed to be like raisin' a kid by yourself. She signed me up for karate lessons an' gun handlin' classes so I'd have somethin' to fall back on if I ever got in trouble.

After I moved out an' got me a place of my own, I'd go back to her place every Sunday an' have dinner with her. All she had was me, so y'know, why leave her alone all the time, right? 'Sides, I couldn't cook worth shit compared to her. I even started up my own auto-shop with some buddies of mine so I could help her out a bit. Sure, I needed some of the money to pay the rent, but most of the time, she needed it more.

After a while, she started worryin' about the news, talkin' 'bout the flu and how we should head down to Texas, hang with some relatives while it died out. I kept tryin' to tell her that it'd be fine, that as long as she stayed clean, she wouldn't have to worry 'bout getting sick. Sometimes I wonder whether I should have just gone to Texas like she said.

Soon, a bunch of my buddies that worked at my garage kept callin' in sick. So I had to have Keith come in an' fill in for 'em. Heh...and man, you wouldn't believe how hard he could make changin' oil sound.

One day, the two of us were workin' late. A bunch a' people kept comin' in asking for us to make repairs on their cars, tryin' to get outta town and head east to get away from the flu. Happened to be a Sunday, so I invited him to come have dinner with me and my ma.

Glad I did.

We got there, and the whole place was like a ghost town ya' see in those old western movies. I swear, I thought a tumbleweed was gonna come rolling down the sidewalk. Folks'd usually be out on their porches enjoyin' the cool night air and watchin' the stars. Most of them had either left for a relative's or they just weren't there.

Ya' ever had somethin', Nick, that when your mom made it for dinner you could just about keel over, it was so good? Gotta say, my ma was one a' the few women you'd ever meet that could grill a steak real slow, like all day, an' marinate it a whole bunch a' different stuff. She'd make it different every time. Along with her mashed 'taters and a slice a' bread, what more could you want?

(Ellis, you're making me hungry for something besides the shit they shove down our throats here. Mind getting on with it?)

Oh, right. Sorry.

Well, we were just sittin' there, eatin' all. I tried to talk about stuff other than the flu, and how the guys at the garage were getting' sick. Keith managed to keep his mouth shut about all the stupid stuff he'd go off and do just for a kick. I told 'im about how that stuff would upset her. And wouldn't ya' know it, she can't help herself but worry. Kept bringin' up how we should be goin' with everybody else to wherever. Said some of the other ladies down the street would bring her cookies and stuff like that to wish her luck and health.

The doorbell rang in the middle of dinner and she went to answer the door. I was just about to take the plates to the sink when we heard her scream. Hearin' your own ma scream, that's something that'll make your whole body go cold. Keith was closer to the door, so he got there first. First thing I saw when I rounded the corner was him pushin' someone out the door and corrallin' off my ma with his arm.

She kept shouting "Mr. Johnson" like it was one a' her neighbors or somethin'. I looked around Keith and it was a dude with black hair and a sweater shirt. But there was somethin' off 'bout him. His eyes were blank, rolled to the back of his head an' his skin was as pale as a ghost. Looked like he had rabies too, the way he was droolin' all over himself. He kept stumblin' and tryin' to get up.

I moved my ma into the den and that's when I heard Keith sock it in the face, sounded like he broke the nose. I might've karate, but Keith was a big boy, he could take care of himself. But the damn thing just kept on getting' up. I tol' my ma to go upstairs to her room and lock the door. Then I took the handgun from underneath one a' the coffee tables when she started headin' up the steps.

Keith was out there on the front lawn havin' a wrestlin' match with it. That's when I filled its head full'a lead. Only took one shot and it fell over right where it was. Keith managed to get out with nothin' but a scratch on his face.

I went to go get my ma from her room after we dumped the body in a nearby trash can. Didn't want her seeing all the fuss and shit. She was nearly in tears when I brought her down, almost fell apart just seein' the scratch on Keith's cheek and the pistol in my hand. Not to mention we forgot to clean up the blood and the bullet shell from the lawn. That's when we saw the broadcast on TV 'bout CEDA evacuatin' people all 'round Savannah.

We headed off to the Vannah the next day. On the same roof where I met you guys.

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Nick sat there, listening more intently than Ellis had thought possible. He just never seemed like the type of guy to give a shit about anyone's past, thoughts or opinions. Insensitive, Ellis managed to describe it. But that just proved that Nick wasn't the same person that he had met on top of the Vannah hotel a few weeks back.

The man in the white suit had to close him mouth once Ellis finished. He had found himself actually paying attention and delving into the story. He thought to himself,_ 'Never once did I think that Ellis would be the sensible one in a group of people. Out of his worried shitless mother and assclown dumb fuck Keith, I guess it makes sense.'_

"Nick, you okay?"

Nick blinked a couple of times and snapped to attention. "Yeah, yeah. Sorry about your parents. Hard to be as positive as you are with a childhood like that."

Ellis nodded and adjusted his hat, as he often did habitually. "Guess that's where I get it from. Figured that no one else but me could make her happy." He paused a minute and tilted his head slightly. "What 'bout you, Nick?"

Nick chuckled, his shoulders moving up and down with his laugh. "I'm not going to be as long-winded as you."

He looked to the floor at Ellis' work boots. His smile soon faded. It didn't take him long to remember why "Don't ask me how I know that" became one of his favorite cover-up lines. But if any time was a good time to come clean, it was now. Ellis already spilled his secrets, it was only fair that he did as well.

"You know how I told you that you guys were the first three people I ever trusted? Well, my pops was always getting thrown in jail, and mom was hardly any better with her drug addiction. They didn't even notice when I ran off."

Nick's voice quieted as he finished the latter sentence, then cleared his throat and continued rather quickly, blending sentences together. "I lived off the streets and got into a habit of stealing for food. I got into gambling pretty early, went into casinos to practice my trade. It wasn't a very good start. Soon I was left with nothing, and I got a job as a bouncer at a local night club just to make ends meet."

He stopped for a brief moment to check on Ellis' reaction, to check for any signs of disappointment or frown. But Ellis remained firm and continued to patiently listen. He returned his eyes to the floor, proceeding to be lost in the recollection of his memory.

"Once I had made enough with that and the cards stacked together, I managed to start traveling. Tried getting married once, cops chased my ass off the altar when her dad found out I had sticky fingers for her money and jewelery. Got sent to jail for aggravated assault and all those thefts I did."

At that, Ellis slanted his mouth and nodded. Not out of spite, but more like a body language that he was thinking _yup, typical Nick._

"As soon as I got out, I started doing it again, even found a bunch of suckers to con my way into their wallets. I bet you already figured this, but I stole this suit from a high-end men's tailor. Most of the jewelery I have I got off of the dopes I played poker with. Eventually I came here, hoping to find more easy money. That's when I got stuck in Savannah with the infection. I was at a pool hall when one of the guys at a table beside us jumped me. Smacked the shit out of him with the pool stick, then made a run for the Vannah."

He looked back up at Ellis. He wasn't frowning, nor smiling. His face was somewhere in between. "Sounds like you've had it rougher than me. I guess I knew from the start you were a crook. But in a zombie apocalypse, why should it matter where you come from or what you've done, so long as you can help others as well as yourself, right?"

There is was, finally. Something that Nick had missed. Ellis' naive sense of character and position. As well as a rare gift – Sensitivity.

Suddenly, whatever magic that Ellis specialized in began to work. Because from his top hat – or is it tow-truck hat in this case? - the sense of tranquility and peace came into the room. There was no zombie apocalypse. Everyone they knew wasn't dead. The room they were in didn't seem so restraining. The military wasn't threatening to kill them like criminals on death row. Nothing was wrong in the world.

This was what Coach meant by "bravery".

Nick smiled. "If this was the first day I met you Ellis, I swear I would have said that you're full of shit."

"And I wouldn't have cared." Ellis returned with a grin that outdid Nick's. "But it's funny. You said you ran away to get away from all the shit your parents were doin'. In the end, I guess it made no difference."

Nick paused for a moment to think on that, then replied. "No. In the end, I ended up better than them. And more importantly, better than myself."

Ellis stifled a laugh and said in a half joking tone, "Damn, I should've recorded that for Coach and Ro when we get outta here."

Nick lifted an eye brow and lowered his voice as he leaned forward closer to the younger man.. "You thinking about getting out?"

Ellis leaned forward as well, showing his teeth in the most confident grin he had given since arriving in the compound."Come on, Nick. We've been attacked, barfed on, tackled, charged, smashed, burned, scratched, clawed...do I really need to go on? After all the shit we've been through just to get thrown in a room and wait to get shot by a itty-bitty little bullet..." He shook his head and chucked. "Well...I'd say our little misadventures together are just startin'."

Nick smiled then. "Ellis, I don't think I've ever heard better words come out of your annoying hillbilly mouth."

As usual, the capped man took Nick's insult with a grain of salt and laid on back. "I gotta sleep on our escape plan. I'll tell ya' in the morning if I have something." His eyes changed then, to stare Nick back with eyes that held a promise, a commitment. "You try to come up with something too."

Nick returned the gesture with lowered brows and a glaze in his eye that shined trustworthiness.

Ellis tugged on the brim of his hat and pulled it over his eyes.

"I'll try." Nick said before laying himself down on his bed.

"G'night, Nick."

"...Night, Ellis."

Nick rolled over on his side and stared into the green paint on the wall, counting the rivets in the wall between the bed and eye level. Then he raised his voice barely above a whisper.

"Ellis...thank you."

The other shifted then. "For what?"

Nick waited, tried to find the right words. "For being you. And for helping me become a better man."


	2. Chapter 2

First off, I'd like to thank everyone who read over this chapter for me and helped me come up with ideas for it. And I'm sorry in advance if I'm wasting everyone's time with nearly an entire chapter about Ellis having a dream. Reason why is because I've got a lot of foreshadowing and symbolism in this chapter. Where else to do crazy meaningful stuff than a dream, right?

Please read and review. :)

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Left 4 Dead 2: Camaraderie

Chapter 2

It was like that smart guy said—Eisenhower or whatever—that if you go to sleep with a problem, you'd wake up an' you'd have the answer. But I guess I had too much on my mind. After tellin' Nick that story 'bout my ma an' Keith, I couldn't stop thinkin' 'bout them.

I remember when Nick threatened to wring Keith's neck if he ever found him. I tol' him that he was on a' the first ones to get evacuated. Maybe the guilt finally got to me 'bout sayin' that. 'Cause I dream't 'bout it that night.

I don't remember fallin' asleep. Just lyin' there for a good while thinkin' 'bout stuff. Then everythin' just went black an' blurry. Next thing I knew I was standin' beside my ma an' Keith riding the elevator in the Vannah.

It was real fuzzy but I remember getting' off an' helping my ma up the last flight a' stairs to the ceiling floor. When we got to the top, there was a line a' people waiting to get onto the helcopter that would be evacuating us. There was one guy from CEDA that was lettin' us on, one by one.

Finally, he got to the three of us. He let my ma on first, the stopped me an' Keith. "Only room for one more" he said. Keith an' I looked at each other like we were about to play Rock, Paper, Scissors for the last spot. But I gave it to Keith, sayin' that I'd get on the next chopper an' I'd meet him wherever they were goin'. Tol' him to take care of my ma, keep her safe an' calm, tell her not to worry.

We said our good-byes an' the chopper took off. I watched 'em fly off into the distance as I stood as close to the side of the roof as I could, waving my arms an' shouting after them. It didn't even feel like they were gone for more than half a minute an' already I knew somethin' was wrong. The chopper was lurching side to side like the pilot lost control. It smashed into the side of a tall building an' spun like a top to the ground.

I 'member cryin' out, runnin' to the elevator an' mashin' on the Lobby button. When I got out I followed the smoke from the copter to the outskirts of town where the trees were real thick. I don't know how long I ran, a couple miles probably. But by the time I got there, I felt like my legs were gonna fall off an' the fire was burning hotter than the sun.

I looked over the mangled bodies—burned, cut, crushed. I found my ma' off to the side, lying on her back with one a' her arms bent behind her caved in skull She was gone way before I got there. Somehow I managed not to get that upset as I looked for Keith, hoping to find him alive or at least in better shape than her. But I never found him. Figured his body got tossed from the spin or the crash. I looked around for a good while, a good ways from the crash on all sides. Still no sign of of Keith.

After an hour or so of looking I gave up an' wandered home. I knew he was dead, just like everyone else. Keith may have lived though a lot of crazy shit, but he wasn't Superman. He wasn't Wolverine either. He couldn't heal his wounds all super fast like they was nothin'.

After that, it felt more like a normal dream than a flashback. But it felt like my dreams were tryin' to tell me something.

It kept goin' after I left the crash. Rain started pourin' an' the wind started to blow. I didn't care none 'bout the rain. The wind on the other hand made it hard just to keep my hat on my head.

I was a couple blocks away from my apartment when I heard a voice callin' my name. "Ellis," it called, "help me."

I followed the sound behind a large tree on the side of the road. There I found Keith, propped up against the tree, holdin' his side tightly. His shirt was drenched in blood, the side of his head had a nasty gash, an' beneath hand I could see a long deep cut tearin' across his shirt into his side. The rain was leaving him soakin' in a puddle of his own blood.

I tried not to gag as I got on my knee to look him over. In my mind, I knew it was just a dream. But my subconscious had been fooled. The image of Keith was just so real. I could smell the rich blood pooled on the ground, feel the shivers goin' down my spine an' my throat dryin' at the sight. By now I couldn't tell which part was a reflection of my memories an' which part was the dream.

"Keith...you flew this far?"

He managed to raise his head just enough to look into my eyes. The blood from the hole in the side of his head dripped over his eyelids an' down past his chin. He trembled as he slowly shook his head. He took a few gasps for breath before saying, "Thought sayin' one last good-bye was worth the walk." A few splatters of blood flew from his throat an' sprinkled my shirt as he coughed.

"You can't die yet. Look at all the shit you've been through."

"Fallin' out of a spinning chopper, skimming one of the tail blades an' hittin' my head on a rock... Never done nothin' close to that." He tried to crack a smile, but his muscles were giving out.

It wasn't til now that I noticed his skin was turning pale an' his eyes were going from brown to gray. He didn't have much time left. I didn't know what to do. What did you say to someone who was dyin'?

I took his hand, the blood squished in my hand. I had to swallow to keep the bile down. But I couldn't say the same for the tears.

"You be careful up there, ya hear? Don't do nothin' stupid to make the Boss send ya back down. Jus' look out for my ma', at least 'til I get there."

Keith couldn't keep his eyes open anymore. I felt his grip losin' strength in my hand. Then he whispered quietly, "You won't last long down here with those things. I'll tell her to wait for you. Tell her that we'll...see ya soon."

Suddenly his hand went cold an' what little squeeze he gave my hand was gone. His head slumped onto my chest an' I couldn't help but hold it with my empty hand. It was a reaction that you would give a friend that cried on your shoulder. But I knew Keith wasn't cryin'. I knew he was gone. My best friend was gone. After all the adventures an' trouble we got into, the only thing we ever refused to take on killed him.

This damn zombie apocalypse took my best friend an' my mom from me. an' who was gonna know but me? That's the way I wanted it. Maybe down the road I was gonna run into other people that needed help. I tol' myself that I'd help 'em when they needed it, an' be their shoulder to cry on. But I wouldn't do none a' the cryin', I'd stop it when it came. Maybe I'd be called a fool, too happy to understand the problem. If that's what made them happy, sure. But addin' onto the mess by stickin' my own problems in the pile, that wasn't gonna happen.

No one had to know but me.

I stood up an' turned to head into the apartment. The puddle of blood soaked the legs of my overalls an' they squished as my walked, leaving my knees cold an' wet. At this point, I wasn't ashamed that I was cryin'. The rain hid my tears as they dripped onto my face from the brim of my cap. I wished that it could wash away my ma's an' Keith's deaths just as easily.

But I had a plan to kick this apocalypse in the balls. I'd go home an' pick up my truck an' take it back to the garage. I'd find anything I could weld onto it an' turn it into an' armored-up zombie-killin' machine an' drive myself outta Savannah. Those zombies weren't gonna get me. It'd be 100 percent zombie-proof an' I could go as far as I wanted with it. I wasn't gonna go down without a fight.

I was havin' so much fun with mullin' the idea in my head that I almost didn't hear my name bein' called.

"Are you just gonna leave me here in the rain or what?"

My heart stopped an' I whirled around towards the tree, my mind buzzin' like an angry bee praying that maybe I had been answered. When I turned, all I saw was a man in a drenched white suit, his brown hair plastered to his head.

"Nick."

This is the part where the line between dream an' reality really began to blur. I had been asleep for too long an' I just started to accept that everything was real.

As I ran up to Nick, I could make out a smile. He was sitting in a comfortable position with one leg bent an' the other straight, propping one of his elbows on top of his knee. He never moved once the entire time it took me to get to him. I had just enough breath left to ask, "Nick...wasn't Keith here...a second ago?"

He shook his head, "I don't know what you're talking about. I've been here the whole time. Plus, as far as I know, your "buddy Keith" is having a martini in Malibu."

My mind reeled. I knew I just saw Keith die right in front of me. Was I mistaken? It was like whatever Nick said was true, even if I knew he was wrong.

"Now quit your crying, you big baby, and help me up. I can't feel my legs." He reached out his hand an' waited for me to take it. I grabbed his hand an' pulled him to his feet. He stumbled for a moment like he was a kid just learnin' how to walk. "Can you show me inside? This rain isn't doing my suit any favors."

I lifted Nick's arm an' put it around my shoulders an' I held him steady from the hip. He still tripped from time to time, almost like his legs were asleep. But I didn't mind. I had to carry him plenty of times. That's not to say that I didn't have my share of falling down.

As we started to climb the staircase to reach my apartment, I started to hear more voices calling my name, talkin' about things that I recognized an' experienced. The stairs seemed to be longer an' higher than I remembered, more floors were added or somethin' while I was gone. an' at the top of every other flight, the voices grew louder an' I could see a faint image of the people talkin' to me.

I passed my ma', prayin' that I'd be okay, live a happy life an' hopefully get a lady. I pass my grandpa, dreamily tellin' one of the stories he used to tell me when I was still small enough to bounce on his leg. Dave, who came with me to the mall in Atlanta to laugh at the two guys dancing for money. Keith's two older brothers, who got him involved in a scam about raccoons an' a historic tour. an' finally Keith, reminiscin' about the time I saved him from a gator attack, then thankin' me for bein' such a good friend an' having a good head on my shoulders. Goin' up, I wasn't sure if I really had a good head on my shoulders or not.

As we climbed, the voices got quieter an' eventually disappeared. Nick didn't seem to notice at all. The only thing he said during the trip was if "I ever got tired of carrying his ass."

At the top we reached my apartment—number 147—an' when I opened the door I was greeted by the warm glowing faces of Coach, Rochelle, Francis an' Louis. My house wasn't just an empty space with clothes an' beer cans thrown every where. It was filled with my friends an' the peple I've trusted my life to.

Coach an' Ro were in the kitchen getting food ready for everyone to chow down on while Francis an' Louis argued over what movie we were gonna watch. Nick could walk without my help now, an' he went around the room talkin' with the others. Ever now an' then, everyone would throw in their own two cents about what to watch. Nick once said we should just turn on the TV an' just watch "Lost". Francis automatically commented that he "hated "Lost" since he hated islands an' water".

But the one thing that made it really feel like home was when Zoey poked her head in from the balcony an' called me over. Whenever I thought of her, I'd get butterflies in my stomach an' get tongue-tied tryin' to talk to her.

I took off my hat an' hung it on the corner of the couch, runnin' my fingers through my hair to get rid of the hat hair. I kinda felt naked without it but it needed to dry anyway.

I followed her outside an' closed the slidin' glass dorr behind me. Zoey moved to the iron rail an' leaned forward on it, starin' at the sun settin' on the ocean. The horizon had started to tun pink, the sun a hot orange an' the sky had faded to a purple that went on navy. Zoey's pink jacket made me feel like she needed to be part of the scene.

I joined her at the rail. I couldn't take my eyes off of her. All those colors in the sky weren't near as pretty as she was.

She smiled an' asked, "Why did you take off your hat?"

"I wouldn't be a gentleman if I kept it on around a lady." I couldn't help but thank God that I didn't stumble on that sentence.

She looked at me an' studied my hair. Guess it was pretty weird to see me without it. "I like it when you wear the hat. It matches your eyes. Makes you different."

I gave a sheepish laugh, then swallowed. It was always hard to talk to Zoey. Especially when I had to compliment her. Not that there wasn't anything good to say about her. I mean, what was I supposed to say? What _wasn't_ I supposed to say? I had too many things _to_ say. So I tried to mash all of it into a few sentences.

"Well, uh... you're beautiful, Zoey. Like, all the time. I mean, I'm not lyin' when I say you're the prettiest girl I've ever seen."

She smiled an' giggled at me. I could feel my cheeks turnin' red. She was just so damn cute! Whatever man didn't trip over his words an' turn red in the face for Zoey... I tell ya', he just wouldn't be the right man for her.

Zoey sighed an' looked back at the sunset. "Ellis... I want to go off in a sailboat one day. Off to an island where there would be no one but the two of us." I swear to God, her eyes sparkled at the thought. Her ponytail blew in the wind like a horse trottin' on the range. "and when we got bored of it, we'd just get back in the boat and let the wind take us wherever we wanted to go."

I laughed a little. "I like that idea. It sounds perfect. Too bad the others can't be as lucky as us."

"They can have their own sailboats and islands. Whatever makes them happy."

A seagull flew over, crawlin' a laugh at our sappy romantic day dream. I didn't care. They'll laugh at anything, them hypocritical seagulls.

"Well, ya' know that I want whatever makes ya' happy, Zoey."

She looked at me, into my eyes, smilin' that pink lipstick smile. I felt her hand slip between my fingers. My heart started to pound. I felt goosebumps crawl up my arm. I looked down, just to see if I wasn't imaginin' it. Her hand fit perfectly in mine, her fingers interlacing with mine. I felt like the lyrics of "If You're Not the One" were made just for us. Oh, man, if those words didn't fit this moment.

an' in the back of my mind I knew it was just a dream. This was too good to be true, it would never happen. I just kept prayin' to God to not let anythin' wake me. This is better than the zombie apocalypse, better than prison, better than comin' up with an escape plan.

I felt a chilling air come over me. Lookin' up at Zoey, I realized that I was standin' in a sailboat, an' I was still holdin' her hand; helpin' her get in the boat like any kind man should.

Together we raised the sail an' moved the boat out into the see. Soon, we were surrounded by nothin' but the blue in the water an' the blue in the sky, headin' for wherever the wind took us. The waves were calm, the water was clear, an' the wind was just enough to get us gon' an' still be a gentle, comfortable breeze. an' best of all, I was with the girl of my dreams.

But I knew that all good dreams had to end. No matter how much ya' didn't want them to. Nothin' could change that.

Why did it have to be this dream?

Why did it have to be this dream where the waters started to get choppy an' the winds turned into a typhoon? Why did it have to be this dream where the waves got us more wet than the rain?

They started to rock the boat hard enough to where I jus' gave up tryin' to handle the doat an' focused on keepin' myself an' Zoey inside. Ahead of us, a mountain of water came towards us, about six or seven feet taller than the bow of our boat. I gripped Zoey tight an' held onto the side when the wave started to pick us up an' lift us to the top.

Goin' up was the easy part. Goin' down was where it really started to get scary.

It looked like we were miles from the bottom when we got to the crest. Another wave was coming in behind it an' the bottom looked like a mouth ready to swallow us an' the boat whole.

We rushed downwards, holdin' onto the boat for our lives. The wind whipped Zoey's hood around so hard that I would have lost hat a long time ago if I had it.

I don't know how fast we were goin' but it was fast enough that when the front of the boat hit the next wave, my fingers slipped off the side an' my face met the floor. I felt blood drip outta my forehead an' I was real dizzy.

Almost too dizzy to hear Zoey scream as she went over the side.

I fought the pain an' scrambled to the side closest to where Zoey struggled to keep her head above water. I reached out my hand as far as I could an' shouted out to her. She tried to swim back to the boat, but the waves kept tryin' to push her away an' pull her under. I tried to paddle closer to her with my hand but it didn't do much good.

When Zoey finally managed to close the distance between herself an' the boat, she reached out to take my hand. I lifted the bottom of my ribcage onto the side so that I could reach further.

I've been through a lot of shit in this zombie apocalypse I've had Smokers choke all the breath out of me. I've had Jockeys carry me away from my friends, leavin' me to fend for myself. I've been covered in Boomer puke an' had to trust them to watch my back an' fight hundreds of zombies while I cleaned myself off. I've always had others there to help me. But I didn't this time. Zoey was all I had. An' without her, I'd be left to shipwreck.

Our fingers were almost touchin' by the time that thought crossed my mind. I had to hold my breath because my lungs were pressed up against the board with no room to expand. I don't even think my toes were touchin' the floor.

Her head went under every few seconds, then she would surface again an' gasp for air before goin' back under. I never took my eyes off her fingers. I felt that if I darted my eyes to look into her fearful eyes that she would be gone before I had time to notice.

Suddenly, the waves became rougher an' they rocked the boat harder than before. I was in a very real danger of tippin' over. One wave came so strong that I lost my balance an' tumbled backwards into the post of the sail. The impact knocked the breath out of me. With no air I heaved myself back to the side.

Then my heart stopped. I couldn't see Zoey anymore.

I looked around for her hand. For her face. For her pink jacket. I still couldn't see her.

I yelled out her name, callin' out to her louder than I knew I could. I could barely hear myself over the howlin' wind, but I knew I was making a sound because my chest an' throat lit on fire every time I called her name. an' still she never answered. She never called my name back.

The sea had taken her from me.

Now I wanted to wake up more than anything. The boat was rockin' harder an' harder. I felt like my heart was goin' to jump out of my chest.

"Ellis!"

It wasn't Zoey's voice. It was a man's. Getting' louder an' louder as the rockin' started to tip the boat an' I hit the water.

"Ellis!"

I took a deep breath an' jumped up from my bed. My clothes were wet an' my hat was back on my head.

"Don't worry, you didn't piss yourself." Nick dried his hands with his blue dress shirt under his suit. He had turned on the sink an' cupped his hands to throw the water on me. "Judging by your shouting, I'd say you were about to."

"Shut up, Nick." I took a few good breaths to remind myself that I was back in the real world.

"At first I didn't want to wake you. You were naming off a lot of people. Your mom, Keith a couple other people. Then you started talking about us an' those three we met in Rayford. It was actually pretty funny."

"How much did I say?"

"Oh, enough." Nick grinned. Then he pulled out his mock southern accent that he always saved for makin' fun of me. "_Oh, Zoey! Zoey! I love ya' so much! I ain't gonna let ya' drown!_"

I took off my hat an' chucked it at Nick. It slapped him wet in the chest. "There. A wet suit to go with that shirt."

"C'mon, Ellis. I was just joking." He peeled my hat off his suit an' tossed it back to me. I caught it with my off hand, shook of the water a little an' put it back on my head.

"But seriously, Nick. Sorry to wake ya'."

"It was pretty bad, huh?" He sat beside me, trying to avoid the wet spots on the bed that he splashed. "I tried shaking you, but you wouldn't wake up."

"Nah, it's fine."

"So what about your mom an' Keith?"

When Nick asked that, I almost wanted to just tell him that it was nothin'. But seein' as we were about to die, I guess I thought that hidin' it for so long was startin' to get harder than it needed to be.

"'Member when I told ya' that Keith got evacuated?"

"Yeah. What about it?"

"Truth is that the copter crashed, killin' everyone inside. I looked for him, but I couldn't find his body. I thought I could keep from talkin' about it an' just be the guy with no problems. I guess it finally caught up with me. That's why I gotta tell those stories 'bout him. Makes me feel like if Keith walked away from all that stuff, then he walked away from the crash."

"You just haven't found him yet," I heard Nick whisper to himself.

"What?" It was just a little too odd for Nick to say somethin' like that.

He looked at me for a sec. He looked troubled. Like he had something he needed to say. But he looked back down an' covered it with "Nothing, it's nothing."

I watched him for a sec. His eyes kept darting around the floor like he had been caught with his hand in the cookie jar.

"Nick, if ya' got something' to say, say it."

Suddenly, the door to our cell swung open. Me an' Nick stood up from the shock. A couple of soldiers came in wearing full-body military armor an' gas masks. They took the infection above an' beyond, tellin' us not to touch 'em or breathe on em the minute we got here.

Without a word, one of 'em shoved past Nick an' bound my arms behind me with handcuffs. Then he roughly shoved me, makin' me stumble for a few steps.

"Hey, easy! Ever hear of 'please'?"

No sooner than sayin' that, I had the barrel of a semi-auto assault rifle starin' me in the face. I held my breath for a second, lookin' into the gunman's eyes, watin' for the shot to fire. Once I realized he was only bluffin' an' puttin' me in my place, I exhaled an' said quickly, "Keep my mouth shut, gotcha."

I learned my lesson the hard way when he turned the butt of his gun an' slammed it into my stomach. The air left my lungs so fast that I had to fall to my knees an' gasp for air.

I heard Nick try to walk towards me. The same soldier raised he gun at him. He stopped in his tracks. I couldn't talk, neither did I want to. I turned my head as far as I could to look at Nick in the corner of my eye. I shook my head to try to tell him to stay back an' not worry 'bout me.

Then my skull rang in pain as the butt of the gun slammed into my temple. I fought to hang on to consciousness as I slumped to the floor. I was at their mercy an' they could step on me as much as they wanted to.

I was learnin' quickly that this was a murder camp an' nothin' else. They were already goin' to kill me. But if I didn't shake off their torture they'd gun me down right in front of Nick. I had to do what they said an' put up with the pain. An' I still had to come up with an escape plan.

The soldier that had cuffed me yanked me to my feet. I blinked a few times an' took in a couple breaths of air tryin' to keep from slippin' into the darkness an' suffocation. I found my balance an' followed the one with the gun while the other one fell behind me. Together they herded me out of the room an' closed the door behind me.

I wanted to look at Nick an' tell him good-bye, an' tell him how cool a friend he was. But I didn't. I knew they were takin me to get shot an' I prefered to die where at least Nick wouldn't have to watch.

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Alright! That's done!

Now if anyone cares or thinks I'm smoking something, this is the symbolism that I put in this chapter.

Keith turning into Nick: Ellis' first best friend and his new best friend. Kinda saying "this was your life, this is your life now." When Nick says that he was there the whole time and Ellis believing him is adding "Get over it!."

Nick not being able to move: Explains his personality and how it changed throughout L4D2. At first he didn't want to trust anyone or even make their acquaintance, he didn't really move on from who he was even with the zombie apocalypse (he can't move). reaching his hand out for Ellis to take, "Okay I'm ready to accept some help." then he can move with Ellis' help like "Yeah, I'll scratch your back you scratch mine." Then he can move fully meaning that he's a complete member of the team and is as trustworthy as the rest of them, and he's ready to be friends with all of them.

Ellis hearing people as he goes up the stair: Literally saying that Ellis is rising above his old life into his new one.

Ellis' room number "147" is "One For All" since there are seven survivors that Ellis has met.

Everyone being in Ellis' house: This is kinda saying that Ellis is accepting his new life of fighting the apocalypse and that he doesn't care how long he runs and fights because no matter where he goes, he's at home with his friends.


	3. Chapter 3

Sorry for the late update, had to get done with school. This chapter took a while because I was trying to cover both Ellis' and Nick's first person perspectives. Also wanted to do a few cameos of some of Ellis' voice actor's other roles for kicks, not than anyone would notice besides me. :/

Reminder: The forward and back slashes indicate where the POV changes between Ellis' and Nick's. Ellis will be first in this particular chapter.

Please Read, Write and Enjoy. :)

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Left 4 Dead 2: Camaraderie

Chapter 3

The hallway was hardly any brighter than the cell they dragged me out of an' the air was colder than before. The hairs on my arm stood up tryin' to keep me warm. Either that or my body was reactin' to the fear I jes' couldn't seem to swallow.

I learned in church to not fear death. That when ya' die, that's jes' when God decided it was your time. But I felt like He was tryin' to take me too soon. It wasn't my time yet. I still had friends that needed me before they were taken before it was their time too.

That's what I tol' myself anyway. It helped with the fear. But words didn't matter if I didn't get myself out a' danger.

The hallways all started to look the same. The walls were gray an' the doors were all made of steel. The only difference was that some of the doors had small glazed windows and doorknobs on 'em. Figured they were business rooms used for questionin' prisoners. I kept hopin' they would open on of 'em, shove me in an' handcuff me to a chair. At least I'd be spared for a little bit longer to think of a plan.

As they escorted me down the hall, I glanced at the directory signs on the wall. Cells one through fifty were behind us. Fifty to a hundred down a different hallway. A rec room up ahead somewhere beyond the double doors we were about to pass through. Between the two windows written in red was "Authorized Personnel Only".

The first guard pushed the door open hard enough that both me and him could pass through, while the guy behind me let himself through. Here there was another long hallway, but all the rooms were either offices or storage. This time, the doors were made out of the standard wood you would expect a door to be made out of, and the lights were brighter making the the walls shine a pale white.

I heard a beep come from one of the soldiers. Then came garbled speech from a radio on the one behind me. I couldn't understand what was said, but it was a man and he sounded concerned. Another beep sounded and the soldier replied, "Roger." Then he spoke towards the other soldier, "Be advised; Tango Sams on the loose. Keep that gun looked and loaded."

"Roger. Keep the Tango Mike in sight."

It was all Greek to me. That's what all that code talk was for. All I knew was that something bad was happening and that the guards were on high alert.

Near the end of the hallway, the guy in front threw up his left hand in a fist, telling us to stop. There was a sound comin' from around the corner. Guess I couldn't hear it before 'cause we walk so damn loud. It was a sound that was way too familiar to me; the sound of a low guttural growl.

My body shivered from a chill goin' down my spine. It was the warning growl of a Hunter, gettin' itself ready to attack.

Hunters were probably one of the freakiest zombies I'd ever fought. They could jump crazy far to pounce you so that they could rip your guts out. And during all that, you're left to try to push him off and stare into the empty eye sockets under his hood. Once they pounced you, you were dead unless someone was there to shoot it in the head. And I didn't trust these two muscle-heads with my life, even if one of 'em had a gun.

"L-Listen, y'all...y'all gotta let me go."

"Quiet," one of 'em ordered in a whisper.

"No." I raised my voice just a little. "It's a Hunter, I know how to fight them things."

"It's not a Hunter."

"Bullshit! Y'all don't know nothin'. Unlock my hands before it tries to kill us."

I felt a tight grip on my wrist. The guard behind me pulled out a high-powered handgun and held it towards the end of the hallway.

The growlin' got louder. Then a howl rang through the compound loud enough to make your ears bleed. That was how the Hunter said "I'm ready to rip your insides out. I'm gonna kill you now."

The thing about Hunter is that they always keep their word.

It went by so fast. It leaped out from around the corner. The next second it wax runnin' on the wall. Strings of bullets fire from the first guard's assault rifle. The Hunter was way too fast. The only new holes the rifle made were in the wall. I remember tryin' to shake loose from the guard then suddenly he was on the floor beside me, screaming at the tip of his lungs. His pistol flew from his hand down the hall from the shock of the pounce.

It had moved so fast that I didn't even notice until it had already pounced that it really _wasn't_ a Hunter. It was a dog. An _infected_ dog. It had a tag on its ear labeled 14. But it still acted just like a Hunter.

Next thing I noticed was that it was a German Shepherd, of all things. Couldn't help but think of my own Shepherd I used to have. Found him under a rusted old truck in the junkyard as a pup, so I named him Rusty. Those things make the best dogs, I tell you what. Wouldn't ya know it, he got ran over chasin' a squirrel or something.

Too bad I didn't have a car to run this one over.

The dog tore its claws into the soldier's armor. It wasn't plated armor, it was more of that really thick foamy stuff. The infection made its nails sharp as knives. The armor's protection didn't last long before blood started to fly everywhere. Then it started to shred open his neck with its teeth. The dog was a good seventy pounds and with the soldier losin' strength from the loss of blood, he was helplessly pinned, unable to save himself.

First thing I thought about was runnin' to grab the pistol the soldier dropped. The other one didn't even care that I took off. He was too busy shoving the Hunter dog off his buddy. One thing I've learned is that if you're gonna shove a Hunter, you'd better have a plan to shot it right after. Turns out these guys weren't hired for their brains. I was already at the pistol by the time he was yellin' for his life.

With my hands behind my back I couldn't pick up the gun let alone fire it. I looked back and saw that the dog had just finished rippin' though the other dude's armor. The one on the floor was quiet, bleedin' out to death. I didn't have much time before I was next.

I stooped over as far as I could without fallin' over. I tried to put my hands under my right leg, balancin' on my left. The handcuffs got caught in the folds of my overalls and the heel of my boot as I brought it around. The chain jerked when it came off my shoe, topplin' me to my side, but I was half way there.

I checked one more time and saw blood paintin' the wall beside the screamin' soldier.

My back and arms ached when I tried to pull my left hand around my left leg. I had no idea how Hudini did it because I was _not_ meant to bend that way. I felt sweat drip down my eyebrow every time the sleeves of my overalls got tangled In the chain.

I couldn't help but sigh when my arms were finally at my front. My shoulders an' elbows popped when my hands cleared my foot.

Then I heard the Hunter dog howl its warning again. My time was up and it was gonna come for me next. I reached up and grabbed the magnum and scrambled to my feet.

I managed to get out of the way just in time for the zombie dog to pounce. Its scream made my ears ring as it passed. I squeezed off a few shots as it landed. But it whirled around so fast that I didn't have to to react when it leaped again.

I shoved the gun into its throat when it took me down and fired a quick shot. And in a split second, I reacted with a self-defense move I learned back in karate. My back hit the floor and I used that backwards momentum to roll onto the small of my back and kick the dog over my head.

Using that same swing I flipped over to my feet, not without stumblin' a little. The bullet that went through its throat stunned it a little, just long enough for me to take a few more shots at it.

Thank God one hit it square in the back of the head. With a pained yelp it collapsed to the floor, a spot of blood spatter the wall behind it.

"Phew..." I breathed. "Nice try, Rusty."

Once it was over, it didn't seem as hard as it was. The two trained soldiers fell like flies. _Armed_ no less. While I –a nobody from Savannah—was able to kill it handcuffed. Then again, I had been at the routine of killin' zombies and fightin' for my life for the last couple weeks.

Then it hit me. All that time I spent tryin' to get to New Orleans... Those few hours flyin' on the chopper thinkin' that the last zombie I'd ever have to shoot was the Tank that stood in our way on the bridge. Call it cheesy, but now that I'd killed that Hunter, it was like a big red flag that signaled that the fightin' wasn't over. We were far from safe.

Talk about a let-down.

I walked over to the two bodies of the soldiers. Both of them were shredded to ribbons, absent of life. I'd seen this plenty of times, passing the bodies of other survivors on our way to New Orleans. That didn't mean that it was any easier to swallow than a handful of thumbtacks.

I took another pistol from the guard that held the assault rifle and stuck them both in my pockets. I was goin' to take the rifle with me, but the dog managed to damage it beyond use.

Finally, I searched the other guard for the keys to my handcuffs and the cell that Nick was still locked in. I found the keyring on a back loop of his pants and unclasped them.

I ran back down the hall towards the cell. I knew it wouldn't be long before someone came running to check out the gunshots. I got away and I didn't intend on getting' caught again. Especially when our escape had 'ficially started.

I jumbled with the keys when I got five doors down from our cell. I frowned when I noticed there were a crap-ton of key. The guards had to know which keys opened which locks somehow.

I looked over the keys, flippin' 'em over my fingers lookin' at the sides. There were little numbers inscribed on 'em. One of 'em had 50 - 100 on it, like the directory signs I had passed before. I figured that it would open those fifty cells. Didn't see why it wouldn't work for another key that had 1 – 50 on it.

The key slipped in the hole like a glove. Couldn't say the same for the tumblers, must'a been rusted or somethin'. After a couple twists the lock came loose and I pushed the door open, slidin' the ring over my thumb.

For two whole seconds I though the door slammed back in my face, 'cause I almost swear my nose was broken. I couldn't help coverin' my face with my hand.

"Holy shit! Ellis!"

"Jesus Christ, Nick! This is the thanks I get for comin' back for ya'? Now I know why ya' ain't married no more."

Nick flicked his wrist a few times from sockin' me. I looked up just in time to see his face go from shock an' joy to that cocky smile I knew he would wear when he wanted to laugh. Namely at me. It was one a' those things he wouldn't admit later."

"I thought you were a guard."

"Nah. The guards didn't miss ya' as much as I did," I joked, trying to smile past the pain I felt in my face. "Mind unlockin' me?"

"Oh, yeah." Nick unhooked the keyring from my thumb an' flocked through the smallest key an' unlocked my handcuffs. The chains clanked to the floor with a rattle of steel. My wrists were sore from pressing against the cuffs, rubbin' my hands on 'em nulled the pain a little.

"Thanks man. Figured you'd know a thing or two about getting' outta handcuffs."

He seemed distracted by my hands, didn't say anythin' for a second except, "Damn, Ellis. They must have tortured you with those things."

There was a bloody ring where the cuffs had been on top of deep cuts. I didn't even notice it 'till he said somethin'. I was probably so focused on getting' out of there alive I never even felt 'em diggin' into my skin.

"Oh. Nah. I had to get my hands around to my front." I sighed and shook my head. I didn't know how much of what I'd seen Nick was gonna believe. "There's some crazy shit goin' on here, man. There was this dog with a tag on its ear... It acted just like a Hunter. It ripped those two guys up faster than a paper shredder shreds paper."

He didn't say anything immediately. He kinda just stared like he was decidin' what to make of it.

"I'll admit that's a lot more believable than one of your Keith stories."

My blood pressure went up a little. "I'm serious, Nick. Go down the hall an' you'll see the bodies. I think they're testin' on animals, tryin' to find a cure for the infection."

"Easy, sport." Nick spat 'sport'. "I said a lot more believable. And considering the shit-hole horror movie the world's become, I wouldn't doubt it." He crossed his arms and raised an eyebrow. "Now, how are we getting out of here?"

Damn. I _knew_ I forgot somethin'.

"Uhh..."

"What?" Nick blurted. "You haven't come up with anything yet?"

"Hey, I'm workin' on it."

"I knew letting you come up with an escape plan was a bad idea."

Same old Nick... Thinkin' I couldn't do anythin' right an' when shit hits the fan, well, he'd be the one to remind us we were up to our necks in it.

I started thinkin' as fast as I could, sayin' whatever came to mind. "Hold on, hold on. We've already gotten this far. All we gotta do is find Coach an' Ro an' get the hell outta here."

"Yeah, yeah, great plan, Ellis." Nick brought out the sarcasm in a voice brighter than his suit. "Except you forgot a few things. One: we have no idea where they are. Two: The entire prison is trying to kill us. And three: if we even manage to get out, where are we going to go?"

I forgot to mention impossible to please.

"Look, they're only gonna be lookin' for me. If we split up, we can look for 'em faster."

"Split up? That's the _last_ thing we want to do right now."

"Will you listen for five seconds?" I let out a breath that probably would have exploded inside my lungs. "I got a couple pistols here, one for each a' us. If you find a gun locker or somethin', grab a few pieces for Coach an' Ro. If you find 'em, meet up at the entrance."

I handed him the pistol that had the most ammo left over. He took it and placed it in the inside pocket a' his suit. I could tell by the look on his face that he wasn't lookin' forward to my plan at all. But seein' as how he didn't have much to say other than how bad my idea sucked, I knew he didn't have any better ideas.

"Can't call it good, but it is a plan." Nick unhooked the key that opened the cells one through fifty and handed it to me. I'll check one half of the cells and you check the other."

"Okay." I nodded. "Save your bullets 'till ya need 'em."

"Let's hope Lady Luck hasn't gotten tired of covering our asses."

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Ellis skimmed through the first hallway while I took the one in the back. I would have complimented the lighting of the halls being a _little_ brighter than the cell, but that was before I realize it still smelled like piss. And that was probably what was smeared on the walls.

Christ, why did I get stuck with the group of people who couldn't stay away from sewage?

I looked for guards before I rounded the corner, then moved on to check the cells, starting with fifty-one and worked my way through one-hundred. Each time I looked through the windows to see if Coach and Rochelle were in one, and each time I continued to wonder how many survivors were stuck in this place with us.

After I had gone through fifty doors, I realized that we were probably the only prisoners left. Coach and Rochelle weren't in any of them.

I sighed, turning to head back the way I came. I kept trying to tell myself that Ellis managed to find them. Even when he turned the corner shortly after I did with no sign of the two, I tried to convince myself that he was just going to tell me I had given him the wrong key. But I knew better.

I cursed when I saw his face; sideways mouth with cocked eyebrows. I could hear his annoying voice in my head saying "They're here somewhere, just not _here._"

He opened his mouth to say something and I swear to God he was starting to put his tongue to his teeth to make that _th-_ sound.

"Don't even say it, Ellis," I stopped him.

"What?" He shrugged. "I was jes' gonna say we gotta keep lookin'."

"Close enough." I pinched the bridge of my nose. Sometimes his optimism was as annoying as his hick accent.

That must have been too much of a hint for him, because next he said, "Hey, man. We're free, got guns, an' security's looser than a kindergardner's front teeth. We got this covered."

Kindergardener's front teeth? Really? He must have backwater shoved up his ass so he can pull it out whenever he wants to.

"How do you even know they haven't been shot by now?"

"An' how do _you_ know they _have_?" Ellis managed to get irritated with me without raising his voice. Looking at his face I could tell I'd struck a cord. Even after the past few weeks, his immaturity still surprised me. For a twenty-three year old man, he acted like a little kid. He wore his feelings on his face and his heart was tattooed on his sleeve, right next to that thing on his right arm that looked like Van Gogh was drunk off his ass. "I mean, c'mon. You sound like you don't even care."

"Look, I'm just saying we could walk out the door right now-"

"An' leave Coach and Ro?" He chuckled with a sarcastic smile on his face. "What's with you? I knew you were heartless, but damn."

Ellis didn't know what he was talking about, he wouldn't let me finish. But I didn't want to waste time trying to convince him otherwise. I could feel my grip loosening on the reigns of my temper.

"Okay, okay. You know what? Ten minutes. _Ten minutes_ and I'm out of here before I get turned into Swiss cheese."

"What's stoppin' ya? They ain't lookin' for ya. I can find 'em on my own."

Ellis didn't say anything else. He just walked past me and kept going. He didn't even react when I called after him, "Ellis! Don't be stupider than usual."

Once he turned the corner, I knew there was no stopping him. It wasn't that I didn't care, it was that if Rochelle and Coach were already dead, we were wasting our time. If the two of us were caught or killed looking for people who couldn't be saved it wouldn't be worth it.

That, and the knowledge that if they were dead, I'd be stuck baby-sitting Ellis for the short remainder of our lives.

I turned and headed down the hall Ellis had first come from. He was right, though. With the two of us split up and one of us off the radar, we could find them faster.

I checked every cell down that hallway to make sure Ellis didn't miss them. I was never a fan of wishful thinking, mostly because it was never a fan of me. I kept moving when I didn't find anything.

The rooms started to look like offices. I checked each of the knobs to see if any of them were unlocked. Most of them were. I found one that was unlocked and looked inside. The lights were out and no one was inside. The only light came from the monitor of a computer on a desk with papers scattered on top of it.

I closed the door behind me and moved toward the desk. I turned the monitor toward the papers and shifted through them. They were all hand written notes about some sort of observation in hostility on animals.

_'There was this dog with a tag on its ear... It acted just like a Hunter. It ripped those two guys up faster than a paper shredder shreds paper.'_

Now that I had some evidence other than Ellis' heresy, I felt like I would rather listen to his Keith stories than run into the dog he mentioned.

I bumped the mouse with my hand while I was rummaging through the papers. The screen saver disappeared and was replaced with an e-mail service website. I glanced at it then looked back when I noticed my name was mentioned in the message. In fact, all of our names were in the e-mail.

The title of the message said "Testing Schedule". The body just had times with our names next to them with a number. Coach was first, then Rochelle, Ellis, then me at the bottom. That meant whatever poking and prodding they were going to do to us had already been done to Coach and Rochelle, and that Ellis was missing his treatment. Then I realized the numbers by our names were our cell numbers. Ellis and I were in five, the others were in one-thirty-one.

Ellis had gone that way. Maybe he managed to find them.

Then there was a post script at the bottom that read "_All experimental testing staff are required to wear their lab coats, respiration masks and identification on them at all times due to the above mentioned subjects being Carriers."_

There was that word again. "Carriers". We had seen messages on the walls of safe houses saying that Carriers spread the infection and that they could turn at any time. The four of us just shrugged it off or at least most of us did. Coach would stare at that wall, as if he was trying to figure out if it was true or more of the same bullshit people wrote.

"Nick!" I heard Ellis call my name from down the hall. "Nick! Help!"

At first the only thing I thought was that he was going to get us both killed. Then I heard another voice scold him.

I put the monitor on its face to hide the light and crouched beneath the window of the door. Then a shadow passed by, completely darkening the room for a brief second. I waited a few seconds, then cracked the door just enough to look down the hall.

Two security guards held Ellis by the wrists, dragging his feet across the floor. He was unconscious and his nose was bleeding.

I closed the door and rushed for the lab coat hung on the back of the chair. There was a gas mask on top of the file cabinet. And since nothing can be easy, there was no identification on the coat or anywhere in the room. At least this guy had a third of a brain to take his ID with him.

I stopped when I realized I had already had one arm in the coat sleeve. Here I was getting ready for some poorly planned rescue, when already Ellis' dumb idea got him caught. Two weeks ago, I wouldn't have given a shit about anyone but me. And now that I was the only one free, I could walk out now, just like I always had.

I had already come this far. My window for walking out was gone a long time ago. What Ellis didn't understand is that if I was planning to abandon them, I would have done it a long time ago.

I stuffed my other arm into the sleeve and buttoned it up to the second to last button, hiding the collar of my suit. I cracked the door and checked one more time for guards. The double doors at the end of the hall flipped back and forth after they took Ellis through. Further down, I could see some sort of bloody mess splattered on the walls and floor.

Once they stopped I moved into he hall and quickly closed the door behind me. Then I retraced my steps back into the hall that I had first checked the cells. After rounding a few corners, I followed the directories towards cell on-thirty-one. I saw a guy in a lab coat go around a corner when I finally found the hallway I needed to be in.

Walking along, I noticed one of the side doors were forcefully opened, like someone kicked it in. Inside were a couple of weapon lockers, one of which had a dent in the cage.

I looked up and down the hall as I pulled the keys out of my pocket. I peeked in through the window of the cell and saw two people lying in the beds. My heart started to race as I flipped through the keys and unlocked the door.

"Coach. Rochelle." I whispered their names as to not draw attention.

Neither of them stirred.

For a minute, I thought the worst. That whatever tests they did to them had some nasty side effects. I walked up to Rochelle's bed and shook her by the shoulder.

"Rochelle, wake up."

She groaned and rolled over just enough to look at my face. As soon as she saw me, you'd hardly known she had just woken up from a nap.

"Nick!" She didn't say it loudly, but it was probably the happiest any had ever said my name. She then jumped up and hugged me. "How did you find us?"

I'll admit, I wasn't too comfortable with her touch, but Rochelle was considerably happier than usual. It took me a second before I decided to return the embrace.

"Got lucky," I answered. "But we don't have much time. You two have to get out, now."

Coach sat up on his bed but never got up.

Rochelle took her arms away from me. That's when I saw the bandage on her wrist. "Why? What happened?"

"They got Ellis. I've got to go back for him. By the time I have him, you guys need to be outside so we can make a break for it."

"We ain't leaving." Coach's stern voice barely let me finish speaking. It was the voice he used when decisions were being made and his choice was the final say in the matter.

"Not leaving?" I could feel my blood pressure rising. "Coach, do you have _any_ idea what we had to do to get this far? Ellis risked his life to get us out."

"We're safe here, Nick."

"How far do you have your head shoved up your ass?" I took a few steps closer to him, physically sizing up my statement. "I saw them beat the shit out of him, threaten to kill him. And to make things worse, the animals they're testing nearly killed him."

"As long as we help them, they ain't gonna let nothing happen to us." Coach then stood up and got in my face, trying to reclaim his superior position over me. He was a full head taller than I was, but he should have learned by now that I didn't take bullshit from anyone. Especially when I was fully aware that Coach was a self-proclaimed pacifist when it came to fighting people, not zombies. I knew he wouldn't lay a finger on me, no matter how much he bluffed.

"If they don't find a cure for the infection, they'll kill us. Where do you think we are in the line of guinea pigs in the last month?" Coach didn't say anything. "Huh? What makes us different than everyone else they've tried?"

I could see it in his face when he started to back down and his resolve started to break. In my line of work, you weren't an ace if your face did the talking.

"Face it, Coach. We're standing on death row in here. At least out there we can fight back."

I turned to Rochelle. Her dark lips were parted from watching our argument. I couldn't tell whose side she was on, but I put my hand on her shoulder just in case.

"There's a gun locker a few doors down to the right. Ellis probably tried to get into it. Get whatever you need and we'll meet you outside."

"Okay." She nodded. Now I knew she was on my side of the fence. Coach wasn't so fast to comply in his defeat.

I slung the respirator mask from around my arm and pressed it to my face. The goggles were grimy and hard to see out of. And even though I could breathe without much difficulty the mask smelled like a power-lifter's armpit.

I then led them to the door and let them inside. No sooner had they gone inside I heard footsteps coming from down the hall leading to the previous cells. I leaned just enough to catch a glimpse at the person, another doctor, checking something on a clipboard.

I moved my head towards the door and whispered, "Someone's coming. Wait until he passes then I'll see you outside."

Rochelle and Coach crouched against the wall closest the door as I closed it behind me.

I first moved away from the door before turning the corner, in case he happened to see me out of his peripheral vision. However he was wearing the same mask as I was, so his sight was no better than mine. He glanced up at me when he heard me coming but then brought his attention back to his clipboard.

Looked him over, I saw an ID tag clipped to the waist pocket of his coat. As I passed him, I twisted my wrist and unclipped the tag before stuffing it in my pocket. I kept walking, never looked back. By the time I was out of the hall and got away with it, I was already half way to Ellis.

I checked the tag. The guy's name was Henry Rogers, had black hair and was an assistant. It would do for a cover, at least long enough to get Ellis out.

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I don't know why I was so mad at Nick. Probably 'cause I thought he'd changed, thought he gave more than half of a shit. The first few days I knew him, he seemed more like a ghost than a real person. Like was was goin' to disappear at any minute, like he was never there.

An' in the end, he finally pulled his disappearin' act when I needed him the most.

But I'd already come this far all by myself, I didn't need Nick. Maybe we were better off without him.

I had gone a couple hallways since splittin' up with Nick. I found more cells, so I started checkin' 'em. I almost jumped out of my skin when I saw Coach an' Ro sleepin' in the one fifteen doors to the left.

I stuck my hand in my pocket. Then my heart sank. I forgot that the rest of the keys were with Nick. If he had already left, I'd have to find another set of keys. If he hadn't, then I'd be in luck.

Still, for some reason I decided to bet that he did. That same stupid pride that got me into this mess in the first place. And I wasn't gonna take on more guards without bein' properly armed.

Back down the hall a little bit were more of those regular doors. I peeked in though the windows to see if there were any kind of firearms I could take. Right around the corner from where I came one of the windows looked stronger, reinforced. An' inside, past all those little criss-crosses between the glass, was a gun locker.

I tried the knob. Wasn't surprised to find it locked. Rammin' my shoulder into it a few times got me somewhere. I could see the door starting to give way where I hit it. I rolled my shoulder when it started to hurt. Then I took a step back and let the underside of my boot do the rest.

The door swung open with a '_bang_'. The only light in the room was comin' from out in the hall. All I could think about was openin' up the locker. But I was gonna have to go through a pad lock first. And with the racket I was just makin', I wouldn't have much before someone came lookin' to check it out.

Some things can just never be easy.

I looked behind myself to see if a guard was comin' yet. It was clear for the time bein'. Then the lock started getting' really acquainted with my boot. It took a few kicks before it started to give way, bendin' and crunchin' at the clasp. It only took a minute, but it was a minute long enough to wear me out and leave me breathin' a little heavy.

Once the clasp was convinced to unlock, I took it off the cage and tossed it to the floor.

I don't know what it was that day, but it was like I could hardly open a locked door without getting' hit in the face.

My brain lit up in a painful fire when my head hit the door of the locker. A guard had found me and shoved me as hard as he could. I could already feel the blood tricklin' down my nose an' onto my lip.

Faster than I knew I could, I spun and threw a wild punch at the man behind me. I nicked him in the chin since I aimed eye-level to myself, findin' him to be a few inches taller than me. His build was larger than mine, too. An' he seemed a little smarter than the two guys from before.

He certainly knew how to fight better than them, 'cause he didn't let my punch set him back any. He might've taken one step back, but he came back an' held me by the collar of may shirt, thowin' a better placed punch square in the cheekbone. I fell back against the locker, cornered by the guard. My face throbbed as I decided to resort to the pistol in my back pocket but the man saw me reach for it an'

grappled my arm an' neck. I tried to squirm out of his grip, bu the held on tighter than bark on a tree. Then I figured he must'a been a former wrestler or some shit like that, 'cause before I knew it, he picked me up like I was nothin' an' slammed me to the floor.

The air got knocked out of my lungs an' I gasped for air. Somehow I managed to hold onto the pistol as I fell, but as soon as I hit the ground it skidded across the floor. I knew how bad of a jam I was in. If I didn't get that gun and unload on him, everythin' would be for nothin'.

But before I could crawl two feet I heard a gun cock above me. I stopped and looked up to find another pistol pointed at my head.

"Don't even try it," the man threatened. "Your friends wouldn't want a corpse for a cell-mate."

I didn't want to test the guy to see if he was bluffin'. My hands were behind my head before he finished threatinin' me. That was it. It was over. I had given up.

I didn't want to admit it to myself, but Nick was right. I wasted my time and my freedom. In the end, Nick was the only who probably got away.

Then I blacked out. The guy must've knocked me out with his gun. I wasn't out long. But then again, it always feels like a short nap when you're out, doesn't it?

I woke up in fits an' starts. When I was finally able to comprehend, I realized I was bein' drug by both wrists by two guards, the guy that knocked me out and some other dude. We were somewhere down the hall from my cell. My muscles weren't workin' too well, I was still real groggy.

I'm guess I'm just a stubborn person, 'cause even if I was caught, as long as I was alive I would keep tryin'. An' I tried the only thing I could think of.

"Nick!" I called out at the top of my voice. "Nick! Help!"

"I told you to watch yourself, kid!"

I winced, thinkin' he was gonna strike me again. Instead his parter said, "Easy. Hit him again and he'll have brain trauma."

"He's already got plenty of that." The first scoffed.

"Besides, there's a cleaner way to put someone under." the new guy smothered my mouth an' nose with a cloth. For a moment I struggled to breathe, then I was out again.

This time I didn't wake up for quite a while. I could tell 'cause I woke up on an operatin' table with one of my hands cuffed to the table an' an IV in my other wrist. A man in a whit coat and gas mask bent forward into my sight.

"Ah. You're awake, good." He turned around an' pressed a few buttons on a heart monitor. It took me a minute to realize that I was strapped up to sensors on my chest. "I heard you made quite a ruckus, Ellis. I had to waste materials for first aid care."

"So, what'cha gonna do, huh? Cut out my liver an' stick it in a jar? I'll give you fair warnin', I go through a six pack every night."

The man laughed at me. "No, no. Nothing like that. We're just going to take a few sample for testing and see how your body reacts to a few experimental prescriptions. If any of our test animals show signs of stability, we'll know we've found a cure."

"As long as I don't have to piss in a cup."

"Well, you just might have to." He jotted somethin' down on a clipboard. "Now, if my assistant would show up we could get started."

Just then, another doctor walked in the room, wearin' the same coat and mask as the other.

"Ah, here he is now. So good of you to join us, Doctor Rogers."

"Sorry I'm late. Had a few things to take care of."

My ears perked up. I knew that voice. It was Nick. I tried to hide the joy on my face and play it cool.

"Yes, well, as you know, our job here is to save the world through creating a vaccination. We can't have our research fall behind schedule due to tardy assistants. So, I will treat today like a test, to see if you've payed attention. Take a blood sample so that we can use it for testing."

They guy picked up a syringe from the tray beside him and held it towards Nick. He was slow to take it, but when he did I felt like I needed to give Nick a little "lets get the hell out of here" signal.

"Aw, c'mon, man. I hate needles! I'd rather take the piss cup!"

"Listen, Doc." Nick put his hands up in a confessional manner. "No need to get bent out of shape. Reason why I was late is because I was jumped by one of your mutant dogs. I'm lucky to be standing here right now."

"Are you refusing to follow an order from your superior?"

"I'm just saying we should probably wait until the animals aren't a threat to the staff. The stressful environment might cause problems with the patient."

The doctor didn't say anything for a minute. Then he scoffed an' put on a little bravado.

"Who do you think you are fooling, boy? I'll applaud you for getting here, but Rogers is my personal assistant. Your disguise doesn't work." Nick balled his fists. "You're slipping, con man."

He reached into his coat pocket an' pulled out a radio.

Before he could push the button, Nick had the pistol I gave him in the dude's face. "I can still haggle," Nick said slyly. "Drop the radio and let Ellis go. That brain of yours won't be much use to anyone with a bullet in it."

Turns out the good doctor was all bark an' no bite. He dropped the radio without a fuss. Then he slowly turned an' unlocked my right hand from the table with a key he had slung over his neck.

"So far so good." Nick used a flat tone when he gave demands. "Now, do me a favor and take out his IV and patch him up." He reached for a roll of gauze and a cotton swab and handed them to the doctor. "Keep your hands where I can see them."

The doctor turned off the machine an' slid the IV out from my wrist while keeping pressure on the opening with the cotton swab. I didn't even feel it come out. Then he tore a piece of gauze from the roll an' taped down the swab on top of the wound. All in plain view of Nick.

"Thanks." Nick then slammed the side of his pistol into the guy's head. He fell right down the floor in a tangled mess. Then he brought his foot down on the radio, crumplin' in into a few chunks of metal and plastic.

"Hey, thanks, Nick." I removed the patches from my chest an' hopped of the table. He took off the mask with a gasp of fresh air, then tossed it an' the lab coat the the ground. "An', uh... sorry 'bout all that shit I said. I was in the wrong."

"Whatever." Nick said in good old Nick fashion. "Let's get out of here, Coach and Rochelle are at the entrance waiting for us."

"You already got 'em?"

"And they've got guns for us. Don't worry, Ellis, your plan worked."

"Then what 'bout after?"

"Do what we always do: Stick together and—dare I say it?" He shrugged and made a face somethin' akin to a grin. "Kill all sons of bitches."

I tried not to laugh. I really was wrong, I guess. A couple weeks can change a man. An' though he'll never say it, he does care about us. The four of us, we were like a brotherhood, like a _family_. An' no matter how much we squabbled, that would never change.

In the end I chuckled a little. "Couldn't have asked for more clear cut instructions."


End file.
